This interview is a part of CHECK-IN 2023. It can be downloaded in full for free online. Or if you would like to support the work that we do, consider giving a small amount for the epublication, or purchase a limited-edition physical copy.
The body and its capacity for expression is a key theme in Moe Satt’s practice. Born in 1983 in Yangon, he is part of a generation of Myanmar artists who emerged in the early 2000s. Moe addresses provocative socio-political issues in his home country, often through a sophisticated use of symbols and gestures. Though he is best known for his performances, Moe works across a range of mediums such as photography, sculpture, as well as video and sound installations.
I checked in with the artist during his residency at the Rijksakademie in the Netherlands. In this conversation, Moe talked about new projects he has been working on, a key turning point in his artistic career as well as generational shifts in the Myanmar art scene.
I want to start the interview by checking in with you. The last time you gave an interview, it was shortly after you were released from prison in 2021. How are you now?
I am fine. I was released almost two years ago on 30 June 2021. Since then, my life has not changed much. I have one more family member and am now in the Netherlands for an artist residency programme at the Rijksakademie.
It is a two-year artist residency, from September 2022 to September 2024. I came here with my whole family—my wife, son and daughter. When we arrived, my daughter was only four months old. My son was 9 years old, so we had to find a school for him.
Is this arrangement only for the duration of the residency or are you hoping to settle down in Europe?
We are not sure yet. It would depend on the situation in Myanmar. If the revolution is over, we will go back. Otherwise, we plan to stay here for a while, but not for our entire lives. I applied for this residency programme to take a break and breathe some fresh air outside of Myanmar. Since 2020, when COVID-19 and the military coup happened, I have not had the chance to make any new artwork. It is time for me to focus on my own practice.
What have you been working on during this residency?
I am working on a two-channel video called ‘Nothing But Fingers’ (2023). It is based on an early work, ‘Hunting and Dancing’ (2006), which explores the relationship between humans and animals. In 2006, I found a book on hunting culture from the stone age in Africa, as well as a book on dances from Myanmar. They became the resource for ‘Hunting and Dancing’. Unfortunately, I do not remember the book titles.
In ‘Hunting and Dancing’, I adopt particular gestures that refer to animals, such as the hawk, peacock, deer and so on. They are combined with Burmese dance movements. I first revisited this idea during the COVID-19 lockdown. Initially, I planned to transform the piece into a sculpture but decided later to turn it into a performance. It involves dancers and musicians, and references different dance cultures and body movements. I tried shooting the video in Myanmar in collaboration with a local dancer, but the result was not satisfactory. So, when I arrived in Amsterdam, I had an open call and shot a new video with Liah Frank, a dancer from Israel living in the Netherlands.
The new work will be a black-and-white video. The first channel will be my solo, while the second channel is Liah’s solo. There will also be a part where we dance together, called “body combined”. The music for this performance is created by musicians from Myanmar. For the open studio at Rijksakademie, the video will be presented with a live performance that involves audience interaction. The audience can play with these hand sculptures, which represent different hand gestures cast from my hand.
You have spoken about creating scripts for your performances so that other artists can perform your work at a later point. Is that something you are thinking about at this residency?
Another project I am working on is an artist book called Face and Fingers. This book is based on a performance of the same name from 2008, where I created 108 positions using my face and fingers. The book will detail each of these positions and there will be a limited run of 108 copies. On each page, there will be a photo of the position and above it, a description of the gesture in words and below it, transition lines. It is still a work in progress but it will be finished in time for my solo show in August 2023 at Nova Contemporary, in Bangkok, Thailand.
While ‘Face and Fingers‘ can be scripted, I have also done performances which are context-specific. For one such performance, I collaborated with a street musician for the exhibition ‘Context Concept Contestation’ (2019) at Yangon’s Secretariat building. I did not perform using my body, but instead brought the busker to the exhibition venue. They sang a popular song ‘Na Ga Ni’, which translates into English as ‘Red Dragon’, from the pre-war period. The song alludes to the day General Aung San was born. It speaks about the Burmese people fighting the British and good fortune coming in the form of gold and silver raining from the sky. The song’s original singer is also related to me, as we share the same great-grandfather. The performance is site-specific as General Aung San was assassinated at the Secretariat.
What is your working process like when you are at an artist residency and when you were working in Myanmar?
There is not much of a difference in my thought process. Here, the production process is much easier as I have the Rijksakamedie’s support and access to facilities. For the video, I had the chance to shoot in a proper studio with artificial light and use a good camera, such as a Blackmagic camera that shoots in 4K. If I want to make a sculpture, there are workshop technicians who can assist me too. I can discuss with them what kind of materials and techniques suit my work.
In Myanmar, I have to do it all by myself. Sometimes, I work with a local technician but they do not always possess the expertise to give me advice.
Is there one decision or event that marks a significant moment or turning point in your path as an artist?
The turning point was when my colleagues, Maung Day and Mrat Lunn Htwann, and I organised the first Beyond Pressure Performance Art Festival in Yangon in 2008. In the first three years of my career, from 2005 to 2008, I mostly practised on my own. There were six editions of Beyond Pressure, and it stopped in 2014.
In the early stages, the festival only focused on performance art. But later on, we widened the scope to include contemporary art and public art. In 2014, we installed public art in the park and screened video art. After 2014, we paused because the organisers were all busy with family and their own lives. I am sure the festival will be back someday, like Superman returns, haha!
When you are 27 or in your early 30s, you have the energy to do things and can get by on very little. But, as you grow older, you begin to have more responsibilities like taking care of your family. Now I am 40 years old, and I must think carefully if I can dedicate the time to such a project.The country’s situation also plays a part. I do not know where Myanmar is heading in the future.
Do you notice any kind of generational shifts in the Myanmar art scene?
Some people might not agree with me, but I divide the generations by their years, and not the characteristics of their artistic practice. The first generation in Myanmar contemporary art emerged in the 1990s. Before then, there were only modern artists who mostly practised abstract painting. Examples of prominent artists who were active before the 1990s are Po Po and Aung Myint.
My generation are artists who emerged after the year 2000. I started my journey as an artist in 2005, and some of my friends such as Nyan Lin Htet, and Mrat appeared in 2002 and 2003. My generation organised art festivals ourselves, such as the Beyond Pressure: International Performance Art Festival. Meanwhile, Lin Htet organised the iUi: International Festival of Contemporary Theatre & Performance. Mrat organised Body Report, a poetry and performance art event. Then, Aung Ko and Nge Lay organised the Thu Ye Dan Village Art Project, which was held in their own village.
For the first-generation artists, they are more upfront with political expression. For my generation, we still comment on the political situation but we try to keep it subtle. For the third generation who emerged after 2010, when they started to make art, the country was in a period of transition, so they were free to do whatever they liked.
Would you say that the shifts are mostly influenced by the social situation in Myanmar?
Yes, it is influenced by social and political discourse. Some artists of the younger generation who came up around 2015 and 2016 would say that works by my peers are boring because it is about politics. Such comments were made before the coup when there was a greater sense of freedom. Artists could make work about other topics. After the military took power in 2021, the younger generation also started dealing with socio-political subjects in their work.
My country has gone back and forth with military rule since 1962, which is why we cannot avoid political issues in our work. It is a response to the things happening around us.
You mentioned artists such as Po Po and Aung Mynt. Is there a Myanmar artist from an older generation whose work you resonate with or you respond to?
We do not follow the Western art trajectory where a modern period is followed by the contemporary. In Myanmar’s art scene, it is a mix of both happening at the same time. I find that modern artists are only concerned about surface-level things such as forms and shapes in their work, instead of the deep ideas or concepts. Even though they might paint something in a modern or futuristic style, the subject matter and intention is still nostalgic. The concept remains loose.
In my country, artists are the main driver of artistic activities since we do not have many curators, gallerists, or patrons to develop the art ecosystem. We also lack a culture of art criticism which hinders the development of art discourses. In other countries, an artist's career tends to climb upwards steadily like a ladder. But in Myanmar, an artist may get some attention and be invited to an international exhibition. However, there might not be any follow-up opportunities and they might go back into obscurity. Artists often wear many hats, and some become teachers or translators to support themselves financially.
I really appreciate one of my senior artists, Aye Ko, who ran New Zero Art Space, now turned into New Zero Art Village. You can see his involvement in the Myanmar contemporary art scene with the third generation of Myanmar contemporary artists. Most of the third-generation artists are from the New Zero generation such as Ma Ei, Zoncy, Yadanar and so on.
What has been your purpose and how has it kept you going?
My purpose and reason to keep going is tied to my country’s situation. I was talking to a friend the other day about staying in the Netherlands for only the duration of the residency and returning home after two years. He laughed in response because we used to say that the revolution would be over soon, but it has continued until now.
If the revolution ends within 20 years, I will go back to my country and be involved in its development. Usually, the priority is to rebuild public facilities, such as those dealing with health and transportation. Meanwhile, the arts and culture are given low priority. That is where I will come in and rebuild the scene. My peers and I do not want to be like other senior artists who fled the country and are no longer involved in the local art scene. When we are overseas, we want to be making exhibitions or pursuing a Master’s or PhD degree, so that when we can go back to our country one day, we can share our knowledge.
This is also the reason why my peers and I founded the Association of Myanmar Contemporary Artists (AMCA) in January 2021. This organisation provides education opportunities, such as courses on curating. We are planning to support local artists by sending them for residencies in neighbouring countries such as Cambodia and Thailand. We start small, and aim to send them further abroad to the United States or Europe. Two months ago, we also gave grants to local artists and artists who live near the Thai-Myanmar border. We gave USD1,000 to individual artists and USD2,000 for groups of two or three people.
Where does the funding for these AMCA grants come from?
One grant came from Helvetas through their Artists Relief Fund. We intend to apply for more funding because artists in Myanmar are in a difficult situation economically. That said, there is also an unexpected increase in demand for paintings recently. Since the military coup, people are afraid to keep their money in the bank because it is not reliable. There is also a withdrawal limit amount of kyats each week. While you can keep jewellery or gold, these are valuables the military can confiscate. However, the military is not interested in paintings and that is where young collectors are storing their wealth.
Moe Satt’s ‘Hunt & Dancing’, 15 Years’ is on view from 25 August to 21 October 2023 at Nova Contemporary, Bangkok. Click here for more information.
This interview is a part of CHECK-IN 2023. It can be downloaded in full for free online. Or if you would like to support the work that we do, consider giving a small amount for the epublication, or purchase a limited-edition physical copy.
